


A Last Goodbye

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Male Friendship, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 10:36:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: During his house arrest after the civil war and The Accords, Clint has regular meetings with his supervisor, Phil Coulson. After missing the last review, Phil comes to visit bearing bad news.





	A Last Goodbye

House arrest wasn’t all that bad, really. Clint got to spend time with his family and after the mess with The Accords he knew that his time as a hero was well and truly done. There were days that he missed the action, the excitement, but there were more important things. The kids were growing up fast and he was more than content to spend his days watching them grow and develop, to play and just spend time with them. He’d missed out on too much of their lives already. He wasn’t going to waste another second. 

On the far, with open land in every direction, Clint never felt confined or trapped. Once a week he was allowed to leave to go grocery shopping with Laila and Cooper and, every few months when it was time for his review, he got to have lunch with Phil Coulson. Somewhat annoyingly, Coulson had been unavailable for their last review - no-one would tell Clint why, just that it was ‘classified’ and boy was it annoying to be on the other side of that remark now - but today he back and Clint was glad to see his friend again. 

He met Coulson at the door, noting that he hadn’t driven Lola out to the countryside. No doubt he feared that the dirt and uneven roads wouldn’t agree with her; a wise call indeed. Clint wrapped his arms around Phil in a tight hug, vaguely noting how much thinner Coulson felt. 

Patting him heartily on the back, Coulson waited for Clint to break the embrace before pulling away. With a gentle smile, Phil pocketed his signature sunglasses and said, “It’s good to see you again, Clint." 

"You too, Phil. Been too long.” Clint stretched out his hand, offering to take Phil’s case. He wasn’t surprised when his friend refused. Gesturing inwards, he said, “Come on in. Laura and the kids made us some little sandwiches and a cake. Coffee’s on the table, too.”

The pair chatted lightly for a while, skirting around certain topics and all round avoiding others. Technically Phil was here on business so these little chats weren’t entirely permitted at all but if they were careful then no one would bring them up on it. Clint was lucky that it was only Coulson that came to visit instead of an entire team of agents. Apparently he was worth the same as 6 men, a weight which Clint felt didn’t do Coulson justice at all. He was worth 50 at least. 

Finishing off the last sandwich, hungry after a long day of doing nothing, Clint poured himself another cup of coffee and asked, “So, what’s going on in the outside world?”

“You’ve been watching the news?”

“Not so much. We try to keep the kids away from it all. I’ve spent most of the past month teaching Laila how to shoot.”

Coulson frowned, the bureaucrat inside him stirring at the suggestion. One of the conditions of Clint’s deal after the Accords, if not the main condition, was that he refrained from owning any specialised weaponry. Everything SHIELD and Stark Industries had ever given him had been confiscated and Clint had been completely forbidden from modifying arrows, bows or contacting anyone who might be able to do the same. “You got a new bow?”

“Standard, off the rack training bow. No tricks or fancy doodahs, promise. You can check it over if you want but Laura had the guy at the store give us all the details and it’s within the guidelines. Completely unaltered and not suitable for hero work. I can go get it if you need to see it.”

It was a formality that really did have to be observed but Coulson shook his head, taking Clint’s word at face value. They’d known each other long enough to trust Clint wouldn’t do anything too stupid and both knew the consequences of breaking the rules were far too high for him to risk just because he was feeling restless. 

Taking a long sip of his coffee, which was far more diluted than Clint’s, Coulson confirmed, “I believe you.”

“Will you tell me what’s happening in the world, then?”

“Which one?”

Now it was Clint’s turn to frown. After everything he’d seen, it would have been impossible not to have accepted that there were other worlds. Thor and Loki were Asgardian. And there had been the Chitauri, too. It was painfully clear that they weren’t alone in the universe. However news from the other planets was incredibly rare to come by. Extraterrestrial threats were monitored without much success (SHIELD tried their best but really didn’t know where to focus their efforts when there was just so much space to watch) so to hear that Coulson had specific news to share was more terrifying than exciting. 

Thinking only of his children, painfully aware that he was but a man fighting against who knows what to keep them safe, Clint leant forwards, almost certain that he was going to regret poking at this particular hornet’s nest, he asked, “You found a new one?”

“Yes and no. You remember Simmons?”

“Of the Fitz-Simmons variety? Sure, I remember the name. Was she the biochemist or the engineer?”

“Biochemist. So, a few months ago she was transported through a giant monolith to another planet, Maveth, and met a creature called Hive who was possibly the Devil. He infected dead bodies and could control the minds of Inhumans. The cult who worshipped him also eventually became HYDRA, which explains a lot.”

“Right. So, uh, Maveth. Nice holiday destination?”

“Maybe before Hive arrived there. It’s a wasteland now.”

Hardly surprised that Coulson and his team had managed to find a deadly desert wasteland instead of a tropical paradise planet, their luck rivalling his own, Clint felt a guilty stab of relief that he had refused the offer to join his team back when he’d first learned Coulson survived New York. He’d known they’d gone up against some strange things but this was an entirely other level of weird shit that would probably have left him curled in the corner, a broken crying mess. The respect he felt for Phil’s team was beyond words. They seemed to deal with Avenger level threats on a near weekly basis and he knew he certainly wasn’t stable enough to deal with that. “And Simmons was there how long?”

"Six months.“ The light through the window hit Coulson’s face in a way that highlighted the bags under his eyes. They were deeper than Clint had initially realised and he could only imagine how stressful that ordeal must have been for everyone. To lose a team member like that was not easy and he knew how Phil treated most of the team like his own children. 

"Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Coulson paused, eyes searching Clint’s face for something, he didn’t know what, before suddenly launching into an account of his most recent incidents. Once he started, Clint was too in shock to stop him and ask further questions, entirely blown away by what the poor man had been through. “There’s also a dark dimension where someone else who might the Devil came from before he possessed a guy. And then me. It’s a demon of some kind, with huge righteous vengeance tendencies, whose head catches fire.”

“Right.”

“And then there was the Framework which Fitz accidentally created. Or rather, Radcliffe created it with AIDA - a super life like robot, who built duplicates of us all - and Fitz helped build her. It’s a virtual world where everything is the same but different. HYDRA ran everything. I was a teacher. Fitz was a Nazi dictator. Trip was still alive. Then when we finally escaped that we were zapped to the future to the remnants of a dystopian Earth after the planet was torn apart by Glenn Talbot. And there’s a fear dimension, too. That one was probably the worst, honestly.”

Clint’s mind was reeling. It had only been a few months since he’d last spoken to Coulson. Surely, if all of this had happened during that time, he would have noticed or heard something about it! While he was avoiding the outside world, he knew the Inhuman debate hadn’t died down over the past year, despite everyone’s best attempts to quell the unrest. These sorts of events would have certainly made some noise on those channels. 

Picking at the cake on his plate, too busy trying to unravel this insane story to really enjoy the delicious coffee icing, Clint asked, “This all happened since my last review? I think you deserve something strong that coffee, Phil. There’s whiskey around here somewhere. The strong stuff.”

“Best not,” Phil said, finishing off the cake and helping himself to another slice. Clint smiled to himself; Laura would be happy that her baking had gone down so well. “And only the Framework and the future stuff happened recently but I figured I may as well tell you all of it now since they’ll probably release all my files soon anyway.”

That wasn’t normal policy. Not by any stretch of the imagination. For an agent with as interesting a file as Coulson, that sort of information would be locked away as long as he was alive. SHIELD had learned a lesson after the Triskelion had fallen and were now far more careful with their records. Clint suspected that the U.N. had copies of most files but Coulson’s wouldn’t be among them. Even if they had managed to steal a copy from somewhere, most of it would be redacted. The only time the U.N. would be given unrestricted access would be… 

“Phil… Why are you telling me this? We’ve been having these little chats for months over a year now. Why didn’t you ever mention any of this before?”

Coulson’s gaze softened. He gave Clint a moment to finish the thought, allowing him to imagine the possibilities before confirming the harsh truth. “I’m dying, Clint. I leave tomorrow for Tahiti, would you believe, with Melinda. When I’m gone, all of my mission reports will be dug up and handed over. Once the U.N. have them, they’ll basically be public knowledge. I guess I’d rather I was the one to tell the stories and not them.”

In any other circumstances, Clint would have been thrilled that Coulson and May had finally gotten together. They fit so perfectly together; it was about goddamn time, really, pining over each other like children for decades. It had been laughable. Everyone had known how they felt except them for as long back as Clint could remember, right back to when he was just a low level agent like them. 

Clint couldn’t be happy for him, though. Not with the other bombshell that Phil had just dropped. “You’re dying? But I thought… TAHITI worked, didn’t it? Fury said -" 

"It did. It healed me but when I joined with the Ghost Rider - the vengeance demon with the flaming head - he burnt it all out of me. I’ve got a few weeks left at most. It’s alright, though.”

“It is?” Clint wasn’t convinced. Coulson had been one of his closest allies and friends in SHIELD since the first day he’d joined. When no one else had, Coulson believed in Clint and had always given him the freedom to conduct missions in his own unconventional way, following a prerogative others may not have been able to understand or condone, because Phil had known deep down that Clint would do the right thing. Without his support, Clint may never have been able to adjust to life with SHIELD and would have likely fallen right back into his old ways. 

Over the years, they’d seen a lot together and, silly as it may seem, Clint had always seen Phil as a sort of immortal. He was good, so good, in a world where darkness and despair reigned. Coulson was the gold standard of agents: dedicated, honest and a true believer in the work. The real deal. The true shield. He was everything that Clint knew he would, could, never be and he’d assumed that Phil would long outlive him. 

Clint couldn’t understand how a world without Phil Coulson could ever be alright. 

“Is there nothing we can do?” Clint asked, his voice dripping with sadness. 

Phil smiled at him, that kind smile which quelled even the worst fears. The one that made a person feel like they were wrapped up inside a soft, warm blanket, safe from the dangers of the world and free of the pain. There was an acceptance there, too, a peacefulness which couldn’t be faked. “Even if there was, I wouldn’t want it. I’ve had my second chance and it’s been everything I wanted. Melinda. My team. My life in general. It’s been great but I think it’s time I let someone else take the wheel now.”

“Will I…” Clint stumbled over his words. He was used to death. In his profession, it was difficult not to be. However, it was different when it was a friend, a dear friend indeed. Drawing on Coulson’s strength, grateful for his calming influence now more than ever, he asked, “Will I be allowed to come to your service?”

“I’m working on it.” Which, easily translated, meant that Phil would continue to press the issue with the probation board until they either finally relented or his illness took him from this world. Even facing death, though, he was still a persistent bastard at heart and there was nothing, save perhaps another alien invasion, that would stop Coulson getting Clint to his funeral.

Clint smiled not entirely unconvincingly. He caught Coulson glancing at the clock, which showed their meeting had technically ended five minutes ago, and asked, “Do you wanna stay for dinner? Laura wanted to have a bbq and the kids would love to see you again.”

The message hidden beneath came through loud and clear. _Please don’t leave yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye._

A sharp beep from Phil’s pocket made Clint’s stomach drop. That sound meant only one thing: that Coulson was being recalled to HQ and this was the last time he would ever see his friend. 

The chair scraped against the kitchen tiles as Clint pushed himself away from the table. He began to collect the dishes from the table, desperately trying to ignore the growing pain in his chest at the knowledge this was goodbye. His hands trembled as he bit back the tears, the mugs, bowls and plates clattering against each other, precariously piled up and mere moments from toppling over. 

“That was Melinda,” Phil said gently. Clint could hear his voice wobble, noticeable only because he’d known Coulson for decades. Phil was trying so hard to keep himself together and there Clint was being selfish, thinking of his own pain instead of considering how difficult this had to be for his friend. 

Clint took a deep breath, slowly dropping the dirty dishes into the sink. It was time to face the truth. He turned around and wiped his damp hands on his jeans, his heart breaking at Clint’s almost fearful expression. This was a man who had fought aliens and faced his worst nightmares, scared because of him. Because he knew what Clint could do if he went off the rails. 

He needed to be a good friend to Coulson, like Phil had always been to him. He had to let him know that he would be okay once he was gone. Returning to his seat, Clint met Phil’s gaze and smiled as best he could. “Go on. You shouldn’t keep her waiting. You can take some cake with you, if you like. It would be a help really. Whatever we don’t eat I’m gonna have to give to the kids and Nate is already hyper enough without sugar. You know, just last week he -”

“Clint.”

“Sorry. Get lost. Have fun in Tahiti, Phil. I mean it.”

“Clint.”

“I’ll be okay. I promise. I’ve got Laura and the kids and May scares me a little but I’ll look out for her too - not that she needs looking after, of course. Really, it’s gonna be fine.”

“_Clint_.” Coulson pulled Clint into a hug, cutting off his ramblings. It was probably for the best. He had never been great with words and there was too much to say, too many apologies and thank yous to voice. He owed Phil so much, he had singlehandedly changed his life for the better and had always gone out of his way to help, to protect Clint from the fallout of his own stupidity. Now, he was doing it again. Saying goodbye so that he didn’t have to. “Look after yourself, Barton.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Phil laughed, smiling through the pain as it shifted into a thick cough. “That’s what I’m worried about. It always ends badly.”

Clint didn’t bother trying to argue that. “Enjoy Tahiti, Phil. I hear it’s a magical place.”

That earned him a truly dramatic eye roll that even Tony Stark would have been hard pressed to match. Phil slipped his sunglasses on, the lines around his eyes softening as he gave in to exhaustion and let his smile slip. He stretched out his hand, clasping tightly as they shook. “Goodbye, Clint. It’s been a pleasure.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it.” Clint walked Coulson to the door, handing over his briefcase. Unable to say goodbye, the words too acidic on his tongue. Instead, with a heavy heart, he settled on, “See you round,” and then watched his friend drive away for the final time, all too aware that his life would always be just that little bit more empty without Coulson in the world.


End file.
